


A Steve Rogers Christmas

by baconnegg



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconnegg/pseuds/baconnegg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Rewrite A Charlie Brown Christmas with the Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Steve Rogers Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> It's far from a word-for-word rewrite, but there's a lot of lines and moments taken directly from A Charlie Brown Christmas. Having fun picking them out, if you're familiar with the special :)! 
> 
> (Spoiler: The bit about Clint being Jewish isn't an attempt to steal from another prompt, it's just a little jest about how Christmas specials tend to have a lack of diversity in that way. Just thought I'd mention that so no one's toes felt tread on :). Happy holidays, everybody!)

It’s a little over a week before Steve’s second Christmas in the future. He’d almost forgotten that it was coming, what with the Avengers all moving into Stark Tower at the last minute. He’d finished unpacking only a few days ago. Now he’s walking with Tony through Central Park to join the others at Wollman’s Rink for a little skating outing.

Steve’s excited, even though he never cared much for skating. The past week had been awkward. Even though everyone had agreed on the move, sitting around the breakfast table in pajamas was a bit of a jump from occasional battles and subsequent takeout runs. They needed to spend more time together if this was going to work out long-term. But that’s not the only thing weighing on Steve’s mind.

Steve stops in the middle of Gapstow Bridge and leans on the railing, propping his head up with one hand. Tony stops short and does the same, the hand clutching his phone pressed to his cheek and the other curled into a fist by his mouth. They watch Thor’s large form skate circles around everyone in the distance for a few seconds.

“I think there must be something wrong with me, Tony.” Steve says on a sigh. “Christmas is coming, but I’m not happy. I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to feel.”

Tony, not one for standing still, starts walking again and Steve follows. “I just don’t understand Christmas, I guess. Last year, I was so caught up in learning about how things are done now. Now this year I have the chance to enjoy it, but I don’t. I feel depressed by this whole season.”

“Steve, you’re the only person I know who can turn a wonderful season like Christmas into a problem. Just relax and have a good time, that advice hasn’t failed me yet.”

Steve rolls his eyes and keeps walking. He’s too distracted for witty comebacks.

At the rink, they lace their skates and join the others. Thor is indeed a cut above the rest, but Natasha and Clint easily hold their own. Bruce isn’t too bad either, even daring to lead a few rounds of snap the whip.

Tony laughs when he smacks into Steve and manages to tangle their scarves together. That had been very sudden, too. Their relationship had gone from platonic to romantic in a heartbeat. That heartbeat had been four months ago, so now they were in ambiguous territory. The line between brand-new and familiar. And the holidays only seemed to emphasize that, as if they weren’t complicated enough already.

After a good hour of skating and a brief snowball-throwing contest, the group heads back to Stark Tower. They walk quietly, wet and cold and afraid to break the snow-muffled silence. Steve lags in the back, alternating between idly watching Tony play with his phone and staring at his feet while biting his lip.

Clint falls back a few paces and elbows Steve to get his attention. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I guess you could say it’s Christmas. I like it, but I don’t think I understand it anymore.” Steve stares blankly ahead of them and thinks of his mom, Bucky, and all the December twenty-fifth’s of days past.

“Too materialistic for you, huh? You’re not the first to complain. I understand how you feel.”

“In that case, do you know if there’s anything I can do to get over it? I’d rather have fun than mope.”

Clint smiles wide. “Yeah, what you need is some involvement. How would you like to be in charge of throwing the S.H.I.E.L.D. holiday party?”

Steve brightens instantly. “Sure! But isn’t it kind of late to be mentioning this?”

“Well, the rule is that it goes from lowest seniority up. Our turn was supposed to be next year, but the junior agents that were doing it are now in indefinite quarantine.”

“Oh wow, what happened?”

“They pranked Natasha. Bad move.”

“Hm.” Steve looked up at the grey winter sky. “Okay, I’ll do it. Let’s have a meeting after we get back and get some coffee and food in us.”

“Awesome! I’ll help you out with-” Clint is cut off by loud, chainsaw-esque hacking from Bruce a few feet in front of them. “Maybe we should have it tomorrow instead. One day won’t hurt anything. Get some rest when we get back, okay Bruce?”

Bruce holds out a thumbs-up and grins in acquiescence.

* * *

Steve decides to hold the meeting over lunch, that’s not one of his better ideas. Well, at least they had one thing in common; their tendency to eat like ravenous animals.

“Alright, take a breath, everybody!” Clint waves a fork with an egg roll stuck on it. “Cap’s trying to talk.”

“As I was saying,” Steve clears his throat. “The party is on the twenty-third and we aren’t allowed to take on extra help. We need to pull this thing off, for all the agents and others who work hard at their jobs so we don’t have to be called in to do ours. Am I right?”

Tony does a mock salute and laughs. “Leave it to you to make a rousing speech about an office happy hour.”

Steve shakes his head, smiling in spite of himself. “Our best option is to divide and conquer. Clint, do you have the to-do lists I emailed you?”

“Right here.” Clint pulls a stack of six-times folded papers from his pocket. He catches the look Steve gives him. “I said we should do it digitally, you should have listened.”

“Anyways. The first job is for someone to do all of this.” Steve moves to one side. revealing a half-foot-thick stack of paperwork on the counter behind him.”

A strangled noise goes up, with Tony’s being the loudest. “Why is there so _much_?”

“It’s S.H.I.E.L.D.” Natasha says in a weary voice. “The real question is why there isn’t more.”

Clint pats Natasha’s shoulder before grabbing the stack and setting it on the table. “You’ll be happy to know that this will be Bruce’s job, seeing as he’s without speech for the forseeable future. Sorry, Bruce.”

Bruce says nothing, since the grip of laryngitis is tight in his throat. But the look of disgust he gives the paperwork reads loud and clear.

“Natasha, you’re in charge of ordering the food. Go light on the booze this time.”

Natasha stares Clint down. “That was your fault. Don’t you dare try to pin the blame on me.”

“Okay, moving on. Thor, Tony, you two are in charge of purchasing the presents. You have a budget. Think you can handle that?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony grabs blindly for the paper, not taking his eyes off his phone. “No sex toys, no cars, no fun stuff. I got it.”

Clint pointedly hands the paper to Thor. Steve decides it’s a good time to get a second cup of coffee. “Tony, will you put that damn phone away for two seconds? You’ve turned into a teenage girl!”

“Well, this is one teenage girl who’s keeping her phone out because, unlike some people, she has a multi-billion-dollar company to run. _Thank you._ ”

“Oh yeah? What’s got your nose to the grindstone all of the sudden?”

“The holiday rush. Also, Pepper’s gotten more specific with her threats. Anyways, what are you doing for this little project?”

Clint holds out his paper with a dramatic flourish. “I’m taking care of the logistics. Y’know, making sure people actually show up to the party.”

“Just make sure you don’t miss your target if you deliver the invitations by arrow.” Tony snickers.

“Miss _my_ target? I seem to recall that it was _your_ ‘little misfire’ that took a chunk out of the Empire State Building last week. You should- Natasha? What’s so funny? Thor-” Clint whips around to find that Bruce had been mimicking him behind his back. “You know what? I’m going to ignore that for now. But trust me, I’ll get you back the second you get better.”

Clint points his fork, which hadn’t left his hand the whole time, at Bruce’s face to emphasize his last few words. Bruce bites the egg roll off of it and eats it with a smile on his face. “Hey! That was the last one! That was a dick move, buddy-”

“Okay!” Steve says over the din. “Unless anyone has any questions, I think we can finish up here. Remember, they’re all counting on us. Even if the preparations aren’t fun, it’s worth it in the end.”

Everyone mutters in agreement and leaves with nearly-empty takeout containers in hand. Steve was going to spend some time in the gym, but the bickering had reminded him a little too much of the day with Loki’s staff. He needs some time with his sketchbook if he wants to start this off on the right foot.

* * *

It’s the day before the party and Steve is exhausted.

Problem after problem had come up in the process of organizing the party. It wasn’t bringing them closer together, if anything it was driving them farther apart. Not to mention all the usual Christmas stuff on top of that. To Clint’s credit, he had tried to help when the hiccups happened. Emphasis on tried. He’d spent more time clowning around and bothering Natasha than actually working.

“Good grief.” Steve says under his breath, signing a paper saying he won’t use his superpowers for entertainment purposes at the party.

The five of them are sitting around the living room finishing up last minute details and occasionally stepping out for phone calls. Bruce comes up from his lab every once in a while, but he’s opting to keep to himself until the laryngitis finally wears off.

Steve finishes signing in triplicate and stares out the window. It’s supposed to snow, but it hasn’t started yet. Hopefully it would soon, white Christmases are always better.

“Hey Tony,” Steve says, a thought belatedly occurring to him. “Do we have any decorations to put up around here?”

“Uh, used to.” Tony types a little faster on his phone. “They were Pepper’s. Why?”

“I was just thinking that this place could use a little festivity. Maybe we should get a tree?”

“That’s an excellent idea!” Thor chimes in and everyone else nods, surprisingly.

“Okay, I’ll go get one!” Steve stands quickly, Christmas spirit suddenly reinvigorated. “I’ll take Tony with me. The rest of you, make sure everything’s ready in time. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, we will.” Clint waves a dismissive hand. “Get a nice big one. In white if there’s any left.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “A white Christmas tree?”

Tony grabs his shoulder and leads him out. “That’s nothing. Be glad you slept through the aluminum tree fad.”

* * *

“Your driving’s gotten better.” Tony smiles as Steve hits the gas to get through a yellow light. “Where are you taking us, anyways?”

“To a tree farm, of course.”

“A tree farm?”

“Yeah. I had JARVIS find directions to a good one while you were wrestling your boots away from Dummy.”

“Taking care of a real tree is a real pain in the ass, though.”

Steve shrugs, slight smile not leaving his face. “It’ll only be up for a few days. Besides, they’re traditional, and eco-friendly.”

“Can’t disagree with you there.” Tony goes back to playing with his phone. “Just don’t get any pine needles on the upholstery, I just overhauled her.”

“I thought your cars were male?”

“Most of them are, but Miss Audi here is a strong, independent woman.”

They’re out of the city and wandering the tree farm soon enough. There’s a decent amount left, but none of them seem right. They’re big and full and very pretty, but they’re trimmed just a little too perfectly. Almost like there’s a factory sheen on them.

“Hey, look at this one.”

Steve turns around, nearly tripping over it. A scraggly, sparse tree that barely comes up to his stomach. The thin trunk is crooked, bent a good forty-five degrees in the middle. Despite its lack of needles, it still manages to be a fine shade of green. “This one seems to need a home.”

“I don’t know, Steve. This doesn’t really seem to fit the modern spirit.”

Steve kneels down and takes the borrowed saw to the trunk, cutting it in moments. “I don’t care. We’ll decorate it and it’ll be just right for the tower. Besides, I think it needs me.”

Steve lifts the petite tree over one shoulder. An impressive amount of needles blanket the snow at their feet. They blink at the mess before hurrying off to pay for the tree.

* * *

The party is a bit disastrous. Just a bit.

The catering truck is stuck in traffic. The truck with the presents is stuck in traffic. Both have been stuck for over an hour and no amount of angry hissing into cell phones has rectified that. Even the karaoke machine is missing in action. What is usually a good time had by all is currently a bunch of adults in an empty room either pretending to find the decorations conversation-worthy or shooting looks at the superheroes awkwardly huddled in the corner.

“Come on, there must be something we can do to pass the time.” Steve says in an exasperated whisper. Whatever Christmas spirit he’d wracked up was being quickly drained.

“Don’t look at me.” Clint holds his hands out. “Without alcohol, I’m useless. You used to entertain crowds for a living, can’t you think of something?”

Steve glares, red blooming high on his cheeks. “Need I remind you of the last time I tried to use those skills?”

Thor misses the tension entirely. “Oh, you mean during our first proper public appearence, when you-”

“We agreed to never speak of it again.” Clint says quickly, recoiling under the weight of Steve’s stare. “Hey, you’re always talking about all those good times in Asgard. Can you think of anything?”

“I’m afraid that anything I have thought of, I have already signed an oath saying I would not do it. You Midgardians are so fragile.”

“Okay. Natasha, can- Hey, where’d she go?”

“Out in the hall. She can only tolerate these things for so long.”

Steve huffs out a sigh. The Avengers, the Earth’s mightiest heroes, incapable of livening up a party. Why did today have to be Coulson’s day off?

Clint clicks his tongue. “Lucky Bruce, he’ll be glad to have missed this.” Bruce was still without speech and had been left at home with a jar of peppermints.

Steve’s voice is tight and annoyed. The snickers and whispered remarks are registering loud in his ear. “This is so embarrassing, I’d do anything to fix this.”

Tony stops typing an angry email to the catering company and puts his phone away. “There’s the magic words. One sec.”

Tony slips out into the hall and returns with Natasha. She takes a seat in a corner chair. Tony taps a few buttons on his phone and sets it on the table beside her. A holographic piano materializes in front of her, and sounds just like the real thing when she begins to play.

The other three are thoroughly confused, and Clint says as much. “What the hell is he-”

_“Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the newborn king.”_

The whispered conversations cease. Everyone turns to face Tony, who has a grin on his face and a hand on the back of Natasha’s chair. Gradually, something warm and intangible fills the room. Despite their suits and nametags, the partygoers look somehow relaxed and peaceful. Their hands no longer twitch for cocktail glasses. They just stand and smile.

“Is he lip-synching?” Clint whispers as Tony holds a rather impressive note. “It doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“No, it’s him. He sings in the shower sometimes. Not like this, though.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Where did Natasha learn how to play piano?”

“Hungary. It’s kind of a long story.”

The pair finish strongly and the entire room applauds. Tony hams it up, as usual. “Yell out requests, folks! We’ll be here all night!...”

* * *

The next day, Steve tracks down the other Avengers, sprawled out in front of the immense TV in the rec room. “Hey guys, do you wanna come decorate the tree? I have it all set up in the living room, and I made cookies.”

“No thanks,” Clint yawns loudly. “I’m all Christmas-ed out after yesterday. Feel free to leave the cookies, though.”

“Same.” Natasha says as she stretches a little. “I saw the tree, what happened to it?”

“Nothing, it came like that.”

Clint twists his head around. “Out of all the trees there you picked _that_ one? It looks like it got ran over by a truck!”

“It’ll probably fall over if you put any ornaments on it.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree. That tree is, what’s the expression? ‘Shrimpy?’”

Bruce snickers, though it makes him cough. The other three join in.

“Maybe next year you can pick out a _good_ one.”

“You tried, Cap. Gold star for effort.”

“ _Augh!_ Fine, I’ll decorate it myself! I’m sorry for trying to have fun with you. I mean, it’s not like we live together or anything.” Steve turns on his heel and storms off. He thinks he hears Tony call after him, but he can’t be bothered to care.

* * *

An hour later, Steve holds up the large, intricate star he’s made out of craft paper, making it glint in the low light of the living room. He sighs as he shuffles over to the crooked tree. If his teammates had chosen to agree instead of mock, he would have taken them ornament shopping. It would have been hectic and crowded, sure, but maybe they could have made it fun.

Steve carefully sets the rather heavy star on top of the barely-upright tree. It holds for a second before trembling dramatically and collapsing on its side, throwing up a cloud of needles and spilling water all over the floor.

“I’ve killed it.” Steve says in disbelief. He runs into the kitchen and grabs a rag, shoving a handful of cookies into his mouth on the way back before crouching down to mop up the water.

Well, wasn’t that just the symbolic nail in the coffin. Okay, he got it now. The cozy, do-it-yourself Christmases he’d spent with his mom and Bucky were long gone. Modern Christmas was about stimulating the economy. Fine. He could deal with that. Nothing in the Captain America job description about liking a non-patriotic holiday. It was about time he grew out of his sentimentality, anyways.

Steve shoves the evergreen out of the way. “Stupid, ugly tree.”

“I never thought it was such a bad little tree.” Steve looks over his shoulder to see Tony standing in the doorway, a bunch of wire and metal in his hands. “It’s not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love.”

Tony walks over and sets the tree back in its stand. He unfolds the strips of metal, which turn out to be support beams that butt up against the trunk and hold it steady. The wire is a strand of lights, made up of hilariously mismatched bulbs Tony had somehow managed to tint different colours. Once plugged in, they twinkle quite nicely.

Steve smiles as he picks his star up off the floor and sets it on the tree again. Tony leans on him as they admire the little tree. Steve’s just thinking now would be a good time for a kiss when he hears a purposeful cough behind them.

It’s Natasha. Still wearing her coat and a bit snow-covered, pulling a long strand of red tinsel out of a bag. “Hey. Sorry about earlier. That was...immature. Mind if I join in?”

Steve grins warmly at her. “Of course.”

As they’re mummifying the tree in tinsel, Clint and Coulson appear, covered in more snow than Natasha was. Clint has his arm around Coulson, who’s sporting a prominent five o’clock shadow and khaki pants, more dressed down than they’ve ever seen him.

“We’ve got balls!” Clint crows, holding up his purchase and making Coulson shake his head and everyone else roll their eyes. “I picked up this little stocking stuffer on the way back, think he’ll fit under the tree?”

“Hello everybody,” Coulson steamrolls over Clint’s comment. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by.”

“Not at all!” Steve waves them over. “Take your coat off and stay a while.”

Thor shows up a few minutes later, holding a box of wooden Avengers ornaments. “Look what I found! We even come in decorative form!”

Steve looks accusingly at Tony. “This can’t be a coincidence, what did you do?”

Natasha jumps in. “After you left, he gave us a lecture. It was rather impressive.”

“Indeed.” Thor nods. “It made us realize that we had been rude and petty. You are right, if we are going to live together, we should celebrate together.”

“Here, here.” Clint lifts a glass ball in mock toast.

Steve looks at Tony and Tony just looks back, face betraying nothing. A knock is heard and everyone looks over to see Bruce, barely visible behind an enormous scarf, holding up a box of candy canes.

Once the tree is decorated good and proper, Steve makes everyone some hot chocolate and Clint sets the couch cushions in a circle around it. Tony points out that they ought to get the presents, now that they have something to put them under. The gifts- some wrapped, some hastily shoved into plastic bags, some in Coulson’s messenger bag, -are quickly piled under the tree.

“Ho ho ho, it’s Santa Rogers!” Clint says as Steve comes back holding a large cloth sack. “We’re getting spoiled this year.”

“No, no,” Steve chuckles as he sets the bag beside the tree. “Bucky’s family did this, and Mom and I adopted the tradition.”

“How charming.” Thor says as he piles marshmallows into his hot chocolate.

Clint pokes Natasha’s arm. “Hey, can we get some Jingle Bells up in here?”

Natasha smirks as she pulls up the holo-piano (now downloaded onto her phone) and starts playing.

“No, wait. That’s not it. Maybe Deck the Halls?”

Natasha frowns, but plays it all the same.

“No, that’s not it either. You know that song that just really _sounds_ like Christmas? Play that.”

Natasha just looks at him for a moment before playing We Wish You a Merry Christmas on one key.

Clint snaps his fingers and points at her. “ _That’s_ it!”

Tony smirks at him. “I’m pretty sure a five-year-old could beat you at Name That Song, Clint.”

“Hey, what reason do I have to remember Christmas carols? I’m Jewish.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since birth, genius.”

“You should have mentioned it earlier.” Steve closes a restraining arm around Tony’s waist. “I would have gotten you something for Hanukkah.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” Clint snuggles happily against Coulson’s plaid-covered chest. “I haven’t celebrated it since I was like, seven. Not counting those times we went to visit Phil’s parents.”

“Huh.” Steve sips his hot chocolate. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. What are the odds of a fairly large group of people all having the same background?”

Tony reaches awkwardly for his seventh cookie. “Usually one-to-one on TV.”

Steve grabs a cookie and hands it to Tony. “Phil, were you able to celebrate with your family this year?”

“No, my parents passed away a few years ago.” Coulson shrugs, wrapping an arm around Clint. “No big deal. I’m mixed, so I don’t really have a particular attachment to either holiday.”

“Except for our tradition.” Clint lifts his head from Phil’s chest. “Speaking of which, I didn’t hear anybody making dinner plans for tomorrow. You guys wanna join us for Chinese food and a movie?”

“As long as it’s all you can eat, I would most gladly go with you.”

Natasha looks up from her piano. “Same.”

Bruce waves a half-eaten candy cane in agreement.

“There’s a theatre playing _It’s a Wonderful Life_.” Tony grips his mug tightly. “We have to go to that one. If I don’t watch that movie, my year is incomplete.”

“That sounds great! Thanks, Clint.” Steve lifts his mug in the air, turning the slightest bit pink. “Might I be so sentimental as to propose a toast to our first Christmas together?”

“You might.” Tony clinks his glass against Steve’s and everyone else does the same.

“Come, let’s not make Natasha do all the work.” Thor says afterwards. “I’ve become rather fond of carols, as of yesterday. I’ve become rather fond of the one with the birds.”

Natasha smiles and starts playing Twelve Days of Christmas. Thor’s voice nearly drowns them all out, but no one minds. Bruce is more than content to hum along, or laugh when Tony grabs his arm and sways him in time to the music.

After the eighth chorus, an argument springs up about how many lords there are a-leaping. Steve just chuckles and leans back on one hand to look out the window. The city lights are soft and blurred by falling snow, and the air itself seems to be tinted a soft blue. He sighs for what must be the billionth time that week, but it’s the first happy one.

Tony leans with him. His head presses against Steve’s shoulder, one hand on Steve’s knee and the other loosely holding his empty mug. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Steve laughs, a rumble in his chest. “Nothing. I’m just, I don’t know, happy to be here with all of you guys and not somewhere else, I guess. It feels nice.”

Tony smiles up at him. “And that’s what Christmas is all about, Steve.”

 ** _FIN_**

**After-Credits Scene (A.K.A There is No Plot, Only Fluff)**

Phil hadn’t gotten Christmas Eve off in a long, long time, and he was determined to make the most of it.

He’s been quite successful, thus far. No interruptions. No last-minute errands. No “I know it’s your day off, but there’s a three-headed seagull pecking the Statue of Liberty.” Just him, his TV, and his reclining sofa.

He’s watching a Lifetime movie starring that girl from _Dirty Dancing_ when he nods off. Not more than twenty minutes later, he hears the door open and familiar footsteps clomp into the front hall. “Phil?” No, he was asleep and he was going to stay that way.

“Phil?” Nope. Asleep. Past the point of waking up.

Something cold, wet, and heavy crawls into his blanket-covered lap. “I know you’re awake, Phil.”

“So what if I am?”

“We’ve got a tree-decorating party going on back at the tower. If we don’t hurry up, we’ll miss all the fun.”

Phil opens his eyes just a crack. “But baby, it’s cold outside.”

“Don’t be cute.” Clint has the nerve to pout when Phil doesn’t move to get up. “C’mon, where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“I don’t know what that is, so I don’t think I have any.”

Clint leans in closer as he speaks, rosy cheeks only an inch away from Phil’s. “You know, Santa Claus and ho-ho-ho, and mistletoe, and presents to handsome archers.”

While Clint grins into his face, Phil takes the opportunity to pinch his side. Clint yelps and sits down, but doesn’t get up. “Give me one good reason why I should leave my warm apartment on my day off to go hang plastic bits on a dead tree.”

Clint quickly relates the tale of Cap’s foray into seasonal depression.

“Do you think we’ll get there in time?” Phil asks loudly over the wind, zippering his parka as he goes.

“With the crowds right now, we’ll probably be the first ones back!” Clint jogs to keep up with him. Phil’s place is inconveniently far away from a subway station, but when they get there, they miraculously manage to snag an empty car.

Phil leans against a pole and frowns at his reflection in the opposite window. “On second thought, I’m not sure this is such a good idea. I’m dropping in uninvited, I’m not bringing anything besides gifts for tomorrow, and I look like a lumberjack.”

“Shush. I think y-you look gr-great.” Clint rubs his arms and fights a violent shiver. “And if we’re g-going to have an Avengers C-Christmas party, we n-need our seventh A-Avenger there.”

“I’d really like it if you guys would stop calling me that. Really.” Phil looks at Clint’s thin jacket and feels slow for not noticing sooner. “Where’s the coat I got you? And your gloves and scarf?”

“F-forgot them. I was i-in a rush.”

“You’re a case of frostbite waiting to happen.” Phil moves his messenger bag to his other shoulder, unzips his parka and holds it open. “Come here.”

Clint happily wraps himself around Phil and warms up entirely after a few minutes. “Hey, I wasn’t kidding about the mistletoe. Look what I found at the store.” Clint pulls a sprig out of his pocket and holds it up.

Phil just smiles and releases Clint as the train arrives at their stop. Clint follows him out of the station, down the street, and into the tower, whining all the way. “Hey, I know it’s cheesy, but I’m trying to be romantic here! I’m trying to be respectful of your not being into P.D.A. thing. Now’s the time, we won’t be able to do anything once we’re upstairs. Tony’s a nosey bastard, he’ll follow us if we slip away. He’ll probably catcall even if we hug. Phil? Phil, are you even listening?”

The elevator doors open and Phil silently walks inside, still smiling.

Clint trudges after him. “Ignoring your devoted partner of three years on Christmas Eve. You sir, are cold as ice.”

The doors close and the elevator starts to move. Phil grabs Clint by the arms and presses him against the wall, kissing him hard and deep. He goes at it for a good ten seconds before pulling back, smirking a little at Clint’s dazed expression. “There’s more where that comes from, but you’ll have to wait until after we go to bed.”

Clint blinks himself back to coherent thought as Phil hacks into JARVIS and deletes the incriminating security footage. “So, you’re staying the night?”

“Seems like the thing to do.”

Clint grins gleefully and wraps an arm around Phil as the doors open to the top floor. “Merry Christmas, Phil.”

Phil smiles back and plants a kiss on Clint’s cold cheek. “And God bless us, every one.”

**_ Real FIN _ **


End file.
